Several times, he left the others on foot to try to find her himself, though he never succeeded, and when he returned ...
The others’ worry, irritation, and anger were quite open. That cut him more than expected, and he did not know why. After having once abandoned her to Brot’ân’duivé and the others, he should have been relieved if not glad of her growing self-reliance. He was not.
There came a time when only Shade seemed glad to see him, and she was the only one he saw. Those were the only moments he found peace anymore, for she lingered longer and longer with him when Wayfarer did not come. The sight of a black majay-hì coming for him, and shying away from anyone else, puzzled the other trainees, though they never asked about this.
Finally, a dawn arrived when Osha tried to count how many had come and gone in the time of his training. He could not. Another dawn came when the others decided—or knew—it was time to return to a’Ghràihlôn’na. The journey back took longer than it might have, for the horses—including En’wi’rên—were gone that morning when he rose. Perhaps that had been the signal to the others.
It was dark by the time they arrived in the city, and Osha wondered what he would do now. All of his new peers had families here, and he had no one.
“You will stay with me,” Siôrs said, as if it were fact. “My mother loves guests.”
Osha did not know how to refuse politely. He had grown fond of Siôrs but would not be comfortable in an unfamiliar Lhoin’na family. He was still trying to find the right words as they approached the barracks when Althahk came striding out of the large stable nearby.
The commander’s expression was so stern that the entire group stopped and bowed their heads.
“Osha!” Althahk barked, ignoring the others. “Come!”
Osha blinked, startled, uncertain how to respond. After a quick glance at Siôrs, who only shrugged, Osha hurried after the commander. Althahk had already turned toward the stable, his boots cutting the ground in long, hard strides.
Osha grew more alarmed in catching up. Before he could ask, they reached the open doors of the stable, and the Shé’ith commander stopped.
“These claim an acquaintance with you,” he said. “I know two of them, and I told them it could not be true.”
Lost and confused, Osha peered into the stable. Chap and Chane, as well as a red-haired dwarf, were all standing before the backside of a wagon with three chests in its bed. The dwarf was familiar, for Osha had met him briefly in Calm Seatt when he assisted with their original escape from that city. He could not quite remember his name, though the dwarf appraised him with thinly veiled dislike.
All the recent past days and nights of training vanished in an instant as Osha saw the three chests in the wagon. Full reality returned as he looked to Chane, who nodded once.
“You know them?” Althahk demanded.
“Yes,” Osha answered. “Yes ... I know them.”
“Go and collect Wayfarer and Shade,” Chane said without greeting. “Chap and Ore-Locks will go with you. I remain to guard ... our wagon, and as soon as we resupply, we are leaving.”
Osha went numb amid confusion. It was not that he wished to stay, but as of yet, he had gained no answers to his questions:
Why had the Chein’âs forced the sword upon him?
Why had they linked him to the Shé’ith?
Chuillyon sat feeling sorry for himself at his usual table in a public house on the edge of a’Ghràihlôn’na. Once he had been the head of a secret order of the Lhoin’na branch of the Guild of Sagecraft. He had dressed in white robes and commanded subtle but real power. He had been a great scholar ... and more.
Now he sat drinking wine each night at the same table. Perhaps as a vain tribute to his former life, he wore a long black open robe over his simple pants and tunic. Black as the opposite of white was too much irony, though likely no one else would see it that way. No one noticed him much at all, for he always remained aloof.
How long had it been since he had chosen to secretly chase after Wynn Hygeorht into the bowels of lost Bäalâle Seatt? He had gone without permission or even guild knowledge, and one of his own acolytes had been killed. Another acolyte from a different order, but devoted to him, had been gravely injured. And upon his return, Chuillyon had been stripped of all positions and cast from the guild. Though he had mentally accepted this outcome, he had certainly never come to terms with it.
Then, an echo of Wynn Hygeorht had appeared two moons ago. He had been out walking in the city when that arrogant Althahk came in without his companions, but with three others.
Shé’ith always traveled in threes when ranging in their duties. Althahk alone escorted two foreign “elves” ... and a charcoal black majay-hì.
Shade, unique upon sight as Wynn’s companion, was utterly unmistakable to Chuillyon.
He remained frozen in place, watching from a distance. What was Wynn Hygeorht’s wayward majay-hì doing here—and without the troublesome if endearing little human sage?
Strolling behind and off to the side, he closed on them enough to hear what might be said. The tall male and the short female spoke quite strangely. They were not Lhoin’na, which meant they had come a long way from that other place so few knew of on this side of the world.
But he knew.
Oh, yes, Chuillyon had occasionally traveled that far, considering that Chârmun, the great sacred tree of his people, had a “child” in the an’Cróan’s ancestral burial ground. Yes, this was simple enough information to acquire if one knew what he could do and how.
Wynn Hygeorht as well had spent several years on the eastern continent, though he had not known her then.
Chuillyon had long foreseen the growing darkness ahead. In concern, he had counseled sages, nobles, and royals secretly. Warning signs both light and dark heralded its coming nearer. And considering Wynn’s black companion was involved and now here ...
He followed the trio that day, remaining out of sight as they first entered the forest. To his confusion and shock, Shade and the girl went off with Vreuvillä, that mad recluse who worshiped Chârmun and lived among majay-hì. But not before he caught a glimpse of the strange girl’s eyes.
Even from a distance in the forest’s shadows, those eyes were a strange, vibrant green instead of proper amber. After Shade and the girl were gone, the commander escorted the lanky young male to the barracks of the Shé’ith, where he was sent off with initiates likely in training.
None of this made any sense.
However possible, Chuillyon spent as much time as he could spying on them. Not so much with the girl, for it was quite difficult to get close with a pack of majay-hì always about. He did learn their names—Osha and Wayfarer—though at least once, the young male made a strange slip and almost called the girl something else.
And as with the girl’s eyes, there was something strange about the young male as well.
Osha apparently possessed a Shé’ith sword not given to him by the Shé’ith.
Every time Chuillyon learned another tidbit, it gave him fits of aggravation. Not quite as bad as with Wynn Hygeorht, but still ...
Tonight, at the inn, he stared into a full goblet. He had not taken a single sip.
The obvious was unavoidable if he wanted any slim chance to figure out more about these two strange young ones with Shade. He certainly could not approach Althahk or Vreuvillä; doing so would eventually be heard of by the guild. Perhaps it was time for another surreptitious foray into the lands of the an’Cróan, such a backward people distantly related to his own.